Pursuit
by A.H.S. Stories
Summary: Gibbs' neighbor is being stalked by her boyfriend, an ex-marine. When she gets Kidnapped, the team rushes to find her before it's too late.
1. Chapter 1

Pursuit

By A.H. Smith

*****

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the NCIS characters, locations or descriptions. All other characters are my creation (to the best of my knowledge).

Rating: M – Mature content, dark themes, violence.

Summary: One of Gibbs' neighbors is being stalked, and then disappears. It's up to the team to find her before time runs out.

*****

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs leaned against the counter in his kitchen and took a long drink from his coffee mug. It was a perfect spring Saturday morning and a rare day off for the NCIS agent. He glanced into the mug and topped it off from the coffee pot behind him before heading toward his basement steps. It was an ideal day to get lost in crafting his latest boat. He smirked a bit thinking of how much his team wanted to solve the great mystery of how he got those completed crafts out of his basement.

The sound of smashing glass made him turn and stride quickly to his front door, drawing his sidearm and bringing it down along his side before he opened the door to find the source of the disturbance.

"Chris, No! Stop!" A young woman across the street was standing in the middle of her walkway as an irate man, roughly the same age, raised his arms up and swung the tire iron he was holding. Gibbs was already heading down his walkway as the back window of the woman's car crumbled into tiny glass particles. The man slung the tire iron at the woman and jumped into his car, tires screeching as he peeled out, leaving Gibbs standing in the middle of the road, weapon drawn and readied. He sighed slightly as the car careened around the corner and re-holstered the gun, turning towards the young woman who still stood, frozen, in the middle of the yard.

"Are you alright? Did he hurt you?" Gibbs asked, visually checking her for any signs of assault. He was relieved to not see any apparent injuries on her.

"I… No… I'm not hurt," she began, looking dazedly at her vehicle. Her driver's side and rear windows were all smashed in, her bumper dented from where the tire iron had struck as it completed its arc into her rear directional signal. "I can't believe he did it," she half whispered, her gaze falling to the ground where the tire iron lay, just inches from her body. She closed her eyes and started to lean limply to one side, her breathing becoming choked for a moment.

Gibbs reached to grip her elbow and began to steer her into her house.

"Come on," He said, "let's get you inside, no need to stand out here looking at the damage."

She walked stiffly, almost robotically, not seeming to have heard his words at all, but following easily with the gentle guidance Gibbs provided. He still held her arm firmly, prepared to catch her if she began to faint. He recognized the signs of shock setting in, and helped the woman onto the sofa, grabbing the throw off of a nearby chair and wrapping it over her shoulders.

"What's your name?" he spoke slowly, crouching down a bit to make eye contact without looming over the woman.

"Marguerite," her voice trailed off a bit as she blinked, pulling her arms and legs close to her body. She turned her head slowly to meet her gaze. "Marguerite Harris… Maggie."

"Maggie, I'm going to get you something to drink. I will be right back. Just stay here and rest for a while." Gibbs couldn't shake off the growing unease in his gut as he rose and heading down the hallway. He noticed how her voice had faded off, her eyes becoming less focused. Something more than what he had just witnessed had made this woman retreat into a protective cocoon. Finding the kitchen finally, he quickly checked the cabinets for something to heat up for her to drink. Tea bags filled a corner of the shelf, and he reached for one and began filling a mug from the dish rack with water. This sunny day was definitely developing a cloudy edge.

****

Maggie sat, vaguely aware of the blanket around her, the warmth it provided barely cutting through the chill radiating from deep inside her. Fuzzy thoughts rushed through her head, keeping her from fading away completely. Where was Chris now? Would he be back? Would she be safe? How had it gotten to this?

She took a deep breath, trying to clear her thoughts. The aroma of her favorite tea filled her senses, surprising her. She blinked and glanced around the room, suddenly becoming aware of where she was. A movement by the doorway startled her briefly until she recognized the man entering her living room. Her neighbor, he had come over after Chris… he had helped her back into the house when her world began to shut down. A surprised smile came across her face as she realized he was bringing her a tray with cup of tea, milk and sugar set neatly on it.

"Maggie?" The man spoke cautiously as he set the tray down on the coffee table in front of her. "How are you doing?" He moved to sit in the chair nearby, watching her carefully as he did.

"Better," she replied, surprised by how gravely her voice was. She took a sip of the tea and felt herself slowly regroup as the warmth from the liquid began to flow inside her. Taking another sip, she put the cup back down in her lap, holding it between her hands to keep the warmth near. "Thank you," she said.

"Not a problem," Gibbs replied. He sat back and let her guide the conversation, relieved to note that she appeared to be regaining her composure quite quickly. Strength was a good asset to have in this kind of situation.

"You live across the street." It wasn't a question, "Are you a police officer?" she continued, her eyes glancing down to the holstered automatic pistol at his side.

"Yes," Gibbs answered cryptically. "I work for the Navy's version of the police."

"NCIS," Maggie interjected calmly, taking another sip from her tea. "My father was in the Marines," she added, seeing the brief flicker of surprise on Gibbs' face.

"I remember them coming to speak with him when I was younger. One of his friends had gone AWOL. He always wanted to be a Police officer, but his heart kept him from passing the physical… I lost him two years ago." The words just stumbled out of her mouth, surprising Maggie. She didn't usually share so much information with a stranger.

"I'm Jethro Gibbs." The introduction was short, and Maggie didn't seem to need anything more than his name for the time being. He waited for a few minutes more while she continued drinking her tea, "How 'bout you tell me what happened today."

****

"Chris is an ex-boyfriend. We stopped seeing each other about 2 years ago." Maggie started to tell Gibbs about the man he had seen wielding a tire iron less than an hour ago. She closed her eyes and continued speaking, the story coming out like a well practiced speech. "At least, *I* stopped seeing him about 2 years ago. Chris took a bit longer to break things off." She paused, looking pointedly at Gibbs as she spoke, giving him time to ask questions.

"He was stalking you." Gibbs stated, giving Maggie time to refute the statement.

"Yes. At first it was just a lot of phone calls every day. I stopped answering my phone. I got my number changed after a few weeks; then he started to show up at the house. The last straw was about 2 months after we broke up. I came home to find him sitting in my living room. I had to call 911 from the bathroom on my cell phone. He spent the night in jail for breaking and entering and criminal trespassing. I was in court the next morning getting a restraining order. It worked, for a little while. After about 3 months, I started to get phone calls non-stop, but no one would talk when I answered them. My car had notes pasted to it every morning for two weeks… creepy notes about how he could see me, why wouldn't I see him. I called the police, but when they questioned him, they couldn't come up with conclusive evidence it was him doing it."

Maggie paused her story, staring into her mug – now empty of tea – her voice trailing off slightly as she did.

Gibbs cocked his head to one side, gazing at the young woman, the pieces of the puzzle falling rapidly into place in his brain. "That wasn't the end of it…" he began, gently prodding her to continue.

"No," Maggie's voice was soft and flat. Void of emotion – and yet laced with pain. "About 18 months ago, I was leaving work with a co-worker. A male co-worker, a friend, who had been very supportive after the stalking had started. Chris came flying out from behind the bushes and knocked him to the ground. He started yelling at me, screaming about how I had betrayed him, how I had left him for another man. He got angrier and angrier, calling me all kinds of names, he had me backed up against one of the cars in the lot and was shaking me – I don't' even remember what he was shouting then – Mark, my co-worker, he had called the police while it all was happening. He tried to pull Chris back, but he had hit his head on the ground when Chris knocked him down. I think he had a concussion. Chris turned away from me and started punching him again; I tried to run away but he chased right after me. He was trying to drag me across the parking lot – I think to his car – when the police arrived. They arrested him on the spot. He was sentenced to 18 months in jail…"

Maggie paused and laughed flatly, "He was eligible for parole in 12 months. I wasn't even told he had gotten out of jail. I had already moved, changed my contact information, I use a post office box and have an unlisted number. I thought he was still in jail… I let the restraining order expire. I thought I was safe. I thought it was over." Her words began to tumble out rapidly, but she paused again. Closing her eyes, she took a deep shuddering breath and continued, calmer. "Today was the first time I have seen him since that day in the parking lot. He rang the doorbell, when I came out; he was already smashing my side windows. He looked so different, so full of rage. I… I screamed at him… then you came outside and he took off." Maggie looked up at Gibbs, her eyes determined, but tired.

"Did he say anything to you after you came outside?" Gibbs carefully questioned her now that the story was out.

Maggie started to shake her head, the stopped. "Wait… he looked me in the eyes just before he hit the first window and told me that it would never be over between us."

"Nothing else?" Gibbs peered closely at Maggie as he continued, "Was he still talking while he was smashing the car windows?"

Maggie shook head definitively this time, her lips drawing together as she relived that memory again. "No. That was all he said."

"Maggie," Gibbs began, I'm going to call D.C. police. They need to take a statement from you and document the damage." Gibbs paused, "I think you should get an emergency restraining order filed today too. They'll be looking for him since he's on parole, but just in case, that can help keep him in jail where he belongs."

Maggie nodded her head, silently consenting.

"I… I'm going to make more tea," she mumbled as she stood up. "Do you want anything?"

"It's okay," Gibbs replied, shaking his head, "Go ahead and make some tea. I'll get the calls started now."


	2. Chapter 2

Pursuit Chapter 2 – see disclaimer and summary in chapter one

*****

Gibbs groaned, stretching his shoulders back as he straightened. He put down the hand plane he had been using to smooth the surface of a section of the frame of his latest boat. "Old man," he thought to himself as he did. He didn't recall feeling quite so sore after working on the last boat. The faint ringing of his cell phone broke him from this train of thought however, and he grudgingly climbed the stairs back towards the irritating device.

Sliding his silverware drawer open, he reached far into the back of it and retrieved his latest issue cell phone. "At least I got 3 hours good work in," he thought noting the time as he recognized the caller and answered it.

"What do you want DiNozzo?" he barked. The President himself had better have gone missing if he was being disturbed on his first time off in weeks.

*****

"Ah, Boss…" Special Agent Anthony "Tony" DiNozzo grimaced as he heard the tone in his supervisor's voice. "I know it's your vacation and all, but I thought you would want to know this; it just came over from local LEO's…" he trailed off as Gibbs' voice cut through him again.

Ziva David and Timothy McGee glanced over their desks at Tony as he looked more and more uncomfortable on the phone. Both of them were glad that Tony had been in charge while Gibbs was away; neither of them envied him the job of calling the man to bring him back to the office. The boss had been especially crabby after their last case had wrapped up. Everyone had been quite pleased that Director Vance had suggested he take a long weekend off and even more surprised when Gibbs had taken the offer, seemingly without any complaint.

"Get to the point DiNozzo," they could hear Gibbs' dulcet tones from their desks and exchanged looks of pity and veiled relief with each other.

"Apparently, there's a Marine in the area who's gone missing. He's wanted for questioning about destroying property this morning," Tony rolled into his report, seemingly impervious to his boss' bad mood. "Seems he tracked down his old girlfriend and smashed up her car, then took off. No big deal, except…" Tony paused as Gibbs cut him off.

"She has a restraining order on him and he's out on parole. I'm on my way in."

Tony stood holding the phone in his hands looking slightly confused as the dial tone buzzed in his ear. He blinked and closed his mouth quickly, putting the phone back on its cradle. He had learned long ago not to question Gibbs and his seemingly magical sources of information. He grabbed the notepad off his desk and tore off a sheet, scribbling on ;it briefly and then tearing it into two. Crossing the path between his desk and those of his teammates, he stood between them.

"Ziva," he began, "Get me everything you can find on the complainent, her name is Marguerite Harris. I'd start with the court records and police records regarding the restraining order she filed."

"Probie, anything you can dig up on the Marine in question…" he paused, "Gibbs is on his way in now. I'll get in touch with the parole officer."

The other agents nodded, grabbing the proffered slips of paper with their subjects name on it. The sound of rapid-fire typing on the keyboards of their computers followed Tony as he returned to his desk, picking up his phone and punching in the number that Metro police had given him to reach the Marine's parole officer. He leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up against the corner of his desk as the ringer sounded in his ear. Reaching for his notebook and pen, he straightened briefly as the call connected.

"Yes, is this officer Greg Smith?" he asked, all business in his voice. "My name is Agent DiNozzo, I'm with the Naval Criminal Investigative Service. I'd like to ask you a few questions about one of your parolees."

****

Jethro leaned against the back wall of the elevator. As soon as he heard DiNozzo begin describing the case, he had known. It didn't really surprise him that Maggie's stalker was a Marine. In the immediate Virginia/D.C. area, practically everyone knew or was related to someone in the military or government. On his drive back to the Naval Yard, he had been contemplating the events of the day.

When Maggie had left the room to make more tea for herself, he had placed a call to the local police and had them send an officer over immediately to document the scene and take their statements. He had stayed with her until the officer arrived. The man had been very prompt, young but obviously skilled in his trade. He had put Maggie at ease and took her statement after speaking with Gibbs. A flatbed had come to collect her car for processing and subsequent delivery to a garage for repair. Maggie had recovered quite well. Gibbs had stayed off to the side while she gave her statement to the officer. The deep vacancy in her eyes had nearly disappeared. The only signs of her working hard to maintain her composure were her hands clasped tightly in her lap as she spoke and her occasionally downcast gaze as she related the more sordid back story again. The decision had been made to have the officer escort her back to the station so she could begin the process of filing for the emergency restraining order. Gibbs had given both of them a business card, emphasizing to Maggie before he left her in the police officer's care to call him if she had any problems.

"You know where to find me," he'd added, pleased to see a faint smile cross her face and creep into her eyes. They had stayed flat and empty the entire time he had been with her, and the sign that she wasn't completely overtaken by her experience was a good one. He had seen many people in situations like hers who had retreated deep into themselves and never been able to fully rejoin the world around them.

Feeling the silver car begin to settle at its destination, he stood upright again. Now it was time to find the out-of-control Marine and bring the full wrath of the service down upon him. He could comprehend the pain of being jilted, but the extent to which this man had taken his obsession was above and beyond. A fundamental line had been crossed and he was going to make sure the man paid for it.

Gibbs set his shoulders back as the doors to the elevator slid open. He strode forward rapidly even before they had fully spread, rounding the corner and approaching his desk and his team. All three agents were engrossed in their computer screens and started a bit as he spoke.

"What have you got DiNozzo?" he asked pointedly as he lay his NCIS jacket across the back of chair and sat down.

"Chris Ellis, 32 years old. Released on probation for good behavior six months prior to his maximum sentence. According to his parole officer, he made his check-ins on time and stayed under the radar. Counseling was a condition of his parole, I have a call out to his therapist now, seems to have been on the straight and narrow until this morning's incident." Tony rattled off his brief report, glancing at his notebook occasionally to verify the details as he read them off.

"How the hell does someone on the straight and narrow get himself in jail for stalking and assault? Not really the kind of thing you just snap out of DiNozzo." Gibbs growled slightly, perturbed at the summary of what he had seen for himself.

"Well boss, I think I can shed a little light on that," McGee raised his hand, pointing upward as he peered around from his computer, still typing rapidly as he gathered background information on Mr. Ellis. "Private First Class Chris Ellis was dishonorably discharged from the Marines three years ago after failing a psychiatric evaluation. The details are still coming in, but it appears he became enamored with a female officer and believed that they had a relationship. The major problem was that she had never engaged him more than once, when she assisted him with obtaining items from the supply office. After several complaints to her supervisors, an investigation was initiated, resulting in his discharge. I have a call out to his Supervisor for more details. "

Nodding his understanding of the information, Gibbs turned to face Ziva. The agent launched into her report on cue, laying out the background of Marguerite Harris in a frank, staccato voice.

"Marguerite Harris, 30 years old, born in Bethesda Naval Hospital to Paul and Marie Harris. She is currently working as a lead consultant for Cahill and Associates - an advertising agency in Washington D.C. She started there shortly after being assaulted, along with a co-worker by the name of Mark Edwards by Mr. Ellis. Her telephone is unlisted, all her mail goes to a post office box in the city. The restraining order that she placed on Mr. Ellis expired 3 weeks ago. Her mother died when she was 3 years old while giving birth to her brother. The child was born 9 weeks early and did not survive either. Mr. Harris did not remarry and died of a heart attack two years ago. I cannot locate any other living relatives. She has no criminal history, not even a parking ticket. She moved into a house purchased in the name of her father's estate 14 months ago, the address is…"

"Right across the street from my house." Gibbs interrupted her.

All three agents heads turned to stare intently at him as this information was relayed. DiNozzo looked surprised, Tim had a thoughtful expression cross his face briefly before he glanced intently at his computer screen, and Ziva's expression remained impassive.

"So," DiNozzo ventured, "You were the neighbor that interrupted his visit this morning to Ms. Harris' house?"

"Yeah DiNozzo," Gibbs turned to him, mild irritation showing on his face. "He smashed up her car windows and nearly hit her with the tire iron he threw at her as I was coming out of my front door." A dark expression came across his face briefly before he turned and swept his jacket off the back of his chair. "Gear up." He intoned, "Local P.D. are getting a warrant for his apartment, we're working alongside them since he isn't active duty any longer. I want to know how the hell he found her, and where he would be hiding out."

Gibbs didn't even glance behind him as he strode out of the office. He heard the rapid scuffling as his team grabbed jackets, badges and service weapons. He allowed a smile to form on his lips as he thought about the extent of the information they had dug up in the – glancing at his watch – roughly thirty minutes it had taken him to get to the office.


	3. Chapter 3

Pursuit chapter 3

Disclaimer: see chapter one, Maggie and Chris are mine, everyone else belongs to Donald B. Thanks Don for sharing!

*****

"Detective Curtis?" Gibbs' voice held just the hint of a questioning tone as he approached the D.C. officer. The officer turned slightly nodding briefly as he took in the group of agents approaching him. "Agent Gibbs, NCIS." The two men shook hands briefly as Gibbs continued the introductions. "My team, Agent's McGee, David and DiNozzo." Each agent reached to shake the detective's hand as they were named.

"I appreciate the assistance Agent Gibbs," the detective said earnestly, "I know Ellis isn't in the Corps anymore."

"He's not, but his victim is the daughter of a Marine. That's close enough for me." Gibbs pursed his lips together and cocked his head to one side as he spoke, "What have we got?"

"According to his parole officer, Chris Ellis lives at 234 Walnut Street, 2nd floor in the rear." Detective Curtis launched into his report immediately, obviously used to no-nonsense police work. "We already checked his listed employer. According to them, he hasn't shown up to work for two days. No answer on his phone and none of the neighbors have seen him since Wednesday."

Gibbs nodded slightly as the officer continued speaking.

"The warrant to search his apartment just came through, we held off until you could get here before we went in."

"What are we waiting for then," Gibbs said lightly, stepping to the side and following the officer as they approached the two story tenement house. Brick, with classic white porches along the side and neatly maintained shrubs along the front, it fit neatly into the quiet neighborhood they were in. Not many would suspect, looking at it, that it was the landing ground for thieves, abusers and other equally slimy ex-inmates "working" on re-entry into the community. Along the front of the property, a white picket fence was in the process of being added to the scene.

The five law enforcement officers rapidly made their way across the street, purposeful strides carrying them up the stairs and through the front door. Positioning themselves around the door, weapons readied, Gibbs knocked loudly on the door as Detective Curtis called out.

"Chris Ellis," he began, "D.C. police, open the door! We have a warrant to search the premises."

Pausing for a few seconds, and hearing no sounds from inside the apartment. Curtis looked past Gibbs to one of his officers and nodded, prompting the man to come forward and quickly unlock the door with a key that had procured from the landlord.

The focused tension could be felt by everyone in the hall as the two lead investigators motioned a countdown, and then flung open the door, peering carefully around the doorjamb as they did.

"Clear," Gibbs said tersely, cocking his head towards DiNozzo as he spoke, carefully maintaining his stance, eyes on the inside of the apartment, weapon at the ready.

Tony and Ziva quickly moved between the two of them, clearing the room in front of them quickly and efficiently, tersely reporting the status back to their companions as they did. McGee and the officer who had unlocked the door continued through the two sets of officers and proceeded to clear the apartment rapidly.

"He's not here boss," Tim announced dejectedly. "Something I think you should take a look at though back here in the bedroom."

McGee turned and strode along a narrow hallway at the rear of the apartment. Gibbs followed behind him, moving across the room to stand at the foot of the bed. McGee stood alongside the closet, its double doors slid open. A single light bulb hung from ceiling illuminating the discovery Tim had made.

Before them, lining every surface of the interior of the closet were dozens of pictures of Marguerite. Some of them were obviously from when she and Chris were together. The two of them sitting at a dinner table, smiling, candid shots of her at the park, laughing and looking at the camera with a blissful softness in her expression. Interspersed amongst these pictures were images obviously taken without her knowledge. Pictures of her shopping, entering and exiting her car, coming and going to work. Glimpses of her through windows Gibbs didn't recognize. These were the more disturbing images. Photos taken while she had been dressing, photos of her while she was apparently out on a date with another man. Photos of her while she slept.

Gibbs turned away, disgusted by the lengths of obsession the man had obtained. "Photograph everything in the place McGee," he said. "Local P.D. needs these originals for their file."

"Get them to Abby when you're done. I want to know where these were taken," he continued, gesturing to the candid photos of her leaving buildings. "I want to know if these are all from the incident leading to his jail time, or if any of them are more recent."

"On it boss," McGee answered, already focusing his camera on the interior of the closet. He began shooting close up images of the collage so that Abby could run them through her computer and cross reference them with known locations in the Washington area. He barely noticed as his boss silently made his way out of the room back to the center of the apartment.

*****

After the last room was cleared, Tony and Ziva both relaxed their stance and re-holstered their side arms. The movement was so practiced and perfected they didn't even notice they did it in perfect sync. They split up, moving across to opposite sides of the rooms at the end of the hallway to begin their search of the area.

The apartment was small. After entering the doorway, a short hallway with a bathroom off to the right side of it had led them to the rear of the apartment. A small galley style kitchen was off to the left, a combined living room/dining room space to the right. At the rear right corner of the living room area was a door leading into the bedroom where Tony had just seen Gibbs enter, answering McGee's call.

Ziva methodically peered into the cabinets and corners of the room. She even examined the contents of the refrigerator.

"For someone who has lived here for nearly six months, Mr. Ellis certainly did not keep much with him." She called over her shoulder to Tony.

"There are some toppings for food, bread, peanut butter and some cereal. Nothing that would spoil. It does not appear that he cooks much," she continued, "Paper plates and plastic silverware. I don't see any take out containers or anything to cook with over here." Her voice took on a puzzled tone. "There is not even any garbage in the waste basket."

Tony took in the contents of his side of the room, absent mindedly listening to Ziva as he did.

"No TV, " he announced, "hard to believe for someone who spent a year in prison. That's the number one time killer in there."

He moved to open a door along the wall, just before the bedroom door.

"Nothing in the closet either," he added. "Not even a coat or umbrella."

He and Ziva looked at each other, coming to the same conclusion as Gibbs strode out of the bedroom.

"Find anything to tell us where he is?"

"No boss," Tony replied, "What you see is what there is."

"It's as if he hardly lived here at all, Gibbs." Ziva interrupted Tony briefly before allowing him to continue his summary of the apartment.

"Hardly any personal belongings, no groceries to speak of. Not even any pictures we can find of family."

"Check out the ones McGee found in the closet," Gibbs retorted, "He had a whole family of two he was working on."

A shrill ringing interrupted his conversation, causing him to scowl as he dug into his pocket. Removing the cell phone, he glanced at the screen. The number was local, but not one he recognized.

"Hello?"

He was surprised at the voice he heard on the other end of the call.

"Agent Gibbs?" A small, shaky voice came through, vaguely familiar. "It's Maggie."

Her voice broke off briefly as she took a deep breath, the sound causing an uneasy feeling to grow deep in his gut. "I… he…" she stumbled on the words, panic beginning to creep into her voice.

"What happened Maggie," Gibbs' voice was calm but insistent, causing the two agents near him to snap to attention and listen in on the conversation as best they could.

"He was here… in the house," she managed to remain composed long enough to relay this information.

"He broke in while I was at the police station… it's…. everything is…" she began to gulp as her voice became more frantic as she pictured the incident that occurred while she was gone.

"Is he still there now?" Gibbs asked urgently, waving to Ziva and Tony, motioning to them to gather their gear and get the car.

"I don't think so, No". The reply came in a steadier voice. Gibbs was glad to hear she seemed to be regaining some of her control.

"Lock yourself in the bathroom, keep the phone with you. Don't move. I'm on my way." Gibbs issued the instructions and snapped the phone shut. He turned to the Detective who had been standing in the hallway while he was on the phone.

"Marguerite says he broke into her house while she was filing her report." He clarified as he headed out the door behind his agents. "I'll keep you updated."

"McGee," he called, continuing as the agent poked his head out from the bedroom. "Finish up here; we're headed to Maggie's house. Chris broke in while she was gone."

The NCIS agent and the two Police officers nodded, continuing to process the scene as the other half of their party headed out of the apartment rapidly, not bothering to close the door as they left.

*****

Any ride with Gibbs was always a little hair raising and with the stakes a bit higher for this trip, the crazy driving factor increased exponentially. Tony found himself thankful, for the millionth time, that the car they were in had handles to grab on to. Gibbs was taking his turns without considering the brake pedal at all. Even Ziva was starting to have a queasy look on her face as they pulled to a stop outside the front of Maggie's house. Tony found himself confused for a moment as he exited the vehicle, instinctually wanting to cross the street and enter the house where they all had spent many hours meeting with their boss. The sight that greeted them was not a comforting one.

Broken glass still littered the driveway where it had landed after the windows of Maggie's car had been smashed out. The lawn was clear, but as their gazes reached the house, they took in the full reality of what Gibbs had relayed. "He broke in" didn't quite seem to cover it. The front door was hanging precariously, its lower hinges broken apart completely; leaving only the top hinge to hold the door in place. Weapons drawn, the three NCIS agents rapidly approached the house, carefully entering the front door just as they had at the apartment. The sight that greeted them inside the house was less promising than the sight outside.

Gibbs winced as he saw the amount of damage Chris had inflicted up on the neat home he had been in hours earlier. The furniture was turned over, chairs thrown across the living room. A lamp had been thrown against the far wall, now lying smashed on the floor. Books and other knick knacks lay strewn around the living room as well.

"Maggie!" Gibbs called loudly, "its agent Gibbs, you can come out now. He's gone."

The agents looked at each other, a growing sense of unease filling the room as silence met them. Ziva and Tony hurried after Gibbs as he rushed down the hall towards the bathroom. The unease settled into a solid knot in their stomachs as they took in the sight that met them.

"Jesus boss," Tony breathed, unable to help himself, "it looks like that scene from 'The Shining' after Jack Nicholson chopped the door in."

"DiNozzo," Gibbs' tone made it implicitly clear he did not want to hear any more of Tony's commentary.

"There is no one in the house Gibbs," Ziva reported as she came back from the bedroom and kitchen along the back of the house. "The basement is empty as well."

Gibbs turned, wiping a hand across his face as he flipped open his cell phone. Dialing quickly, he brought the device to his ear and began pacing back to the front of the house.

"Curtis," he barked, "she's gone. The house is trashed. We'll get things started on our end. Have McGee bring what he has to the lab before he comes over here."

He quieted momentarily as the other officer spoke.

"I'll have my lab put a rush on it." Gibbs said before he hung up the phone.

"DiNozzo," he continued, "take the car, get McGee and drop what you have at HQ, bring the truck and yourselves back here proto."

"Ziva, start getting pictures of everything."

Ziva nodded, exiting the house to begin documenting the scene from the outside of the house, careful not to further disrupt the scene.

Sighing with frustration, Gibbs moved the phone back up to his ear, listening to the ringer, waiting for the familiar voice to answer.

"Abbs," he intoned, interrupting her excited greeting, "I need you to get to the lab. McGee is bringing you some evidence; I need everything you can get from it. I'll tell you all about it when we get back in."

Gibbs hung up the phone again, fighting down the anger and frustration he felt growing. Now he just had to count on Maggie's fighting spirit, and hope that they got to her quickly so they could put this bastard back behind bars where he belonged; this time for a hell of a lot longer than 18 months.


	4. Chapter 4

Pursuit chapter 4

*****

Maggie groaned as she turned her head to the side. The move made her stomach roll and threaten to rebel against her. Her head swam, causing her to wince as she opened her eyes. Confused, she tried desperately to make the fragments of memory swimming in her mind settle and become clear. Flashes of broken glass, being brought tea, talking with the Metro Police and finding her home trashed flowed into her consciousness as she awoke. She tried to raise a hand to her head to steady it, fresh fear creeping into her as she realized her hands were bound at her sides. As she regained some clarity of thought, she noted her feet were bound too. Straining to see in the dark room, she could barely make out the edges of a metal cot beneath her, illuminated only by the slivers of moonlight that passed through curtained windows. Her stomach dropped as she recalled the events that lead to this most recent discovery.

*** Several hours earlier***

"You're sure you're all set?"

The rookie police officer glanced at Maggie as she reached for the door handle in the front seat, prepared to exit the front passenger side of the cruiser and put the events of the morning behind her.

"Officer, you've been very helpful, and I appreciate the offer of being walked to the door. But, I have been away for nearly 4 hours since this whole affair started and I am quite anxious to return to some level of normalcy in my life. I assure you I will call immediately if there are any other problems."

The officer nodded, finally accepting the third refusal for an escort to her home. He glanced at his clock noting that his shift ended in 30 minutes. "Probably just as well," he thought to himself, as he put the vehicle in gear and drove down the road. All traces of unease he felt about leaving a woman who was openly being stalked to re-enter her home unprotected so soon after the contact drifted away rapidly as he thought about the plans he had for the evening with a lovely companion he had recently met.

Maggie inhaled deeply as she stood briefly near the sidewalk in front of her home. Glancing to the side, she noticed the flag raised on her paper box and walked casually over to retrieve her copy of the daily paper, the account registered under her father's name still, for safety. Nothing exciting in the headlines, she noted, tucking the roll of paper under her arm as she made her way along the path to her front door. She began to hum to herself as she fished in her purse for house keys, coming to an abrupt stop as she reached towards the lock. The door was cracked open a couple inches, darkness peeking through from the interior of her home. Her fingers fumbled in her purse, searching for her cell phone. Pushing the door opened further she cautiously took a step over the threshold.

Maggie sent a silent prayer of relief that she had programmed her phone with direct emergency numbers. Having to call 911 in this instance would only result in having to explain the situation again to an uninformed officer and she couldn't face doing that in an emergency. Without looking, she pressed the button on her phone that would connect her to the keeper of the law that she most trusted in this mess she found herself in. She found herself holding her breath as the phone rang, fear shooting up her spine as she thought for a fleeting moment that they wouldn't answer the call. Relief surged through her as the ring was interrupted and a familiar voice came through on the other end. She faltered for a moment as she began to speak to the man.

"Agent Gibbs," she managed to squeeze out, "It's Maggie."

Their conversation was brief, ending with her nodding slightly to his instructions and disconnecting the call. She cast a glance at her living room as she took a few steps into her hallway, heading towards her bathroom. The once neat and tidy room was now unrecognizable. Her belongings scattered and strewn about, furniture tipped, broken glass littering the carpet making it glitter slightly as the late afternoon sun peeked through the curtains.

A piercing shriek escaped her lips as her gaze returned to the hallway in front of her. Sitting on the floor, leaning against the far wall was Chris. His intense stare was fixed on her, causing her to cease the sound nearly immediately. Instinctually, she turned and started to run towards the half open front door, frantically trying to figure out what to do next, intent on getting as far away from him as possible.

* * *

Chris Ellis stood still in the bedroom. He allowed his hand to drift slowly across the sheets on the bed, savoring their smoothness. Images of the occupant danced in his mind, a mix of past realities and present fantasies. He listened carefully as the sound of a car door slamming shut reached him through the partway opened door. Frustration began to build within him as the seconds ticked on, turning into minutes as he waited for his love to enter the home.

Finally his waning patience was rewarded with the sound of her breathless voice, "He was here."

The words were faint, breathless. They caused his blood to surge, the glimmers of arousal stirring deep within his core. She had missed him. He knew it. He had been away too long. Her shock at his return was expected, their time together had been cut short all too soon. He knew she would recover quickly from her surprise. Their long standing passion would continue to grow now that they could be together again. Not wanting to deny her the pleasure of his presence any longer, he stepped silently into the hall, easing himself to the floor as his eyes traced the outline of his love. Watching as her breaths became shallow and rapid, he smiled. He gazed intently, savoring the sight of her breasts as they moved with each inhalation. Ah, she felt it too. His psychological arousal heightened, fueling the growing tightness as his body strained against the zipper of his jeans. He could barely contain himself, wanting so badly to see her eyes. His overwhelming need to gaze upon the passion that he knew would be there, its growing presence so visible to his eyes, threatened to overtake him as time seemed to slow, her gaze remaining cast away from him. Thoughts of their reunion assaulted his brain. His memory replaying old memories of their romance and passionate embraces as time stood still.

Finally, his patience was rewarded as she began to approach him slowly, her gaze shifting to meet his eyes. Her cry startled him momentarily, its sound the polar opposite of what he expected her to utter. His coursing blood slowed as he watched her turn and run towards the door. This wasn't the way it was supposed to happen. He couldn't lose her again. Memories of their separation and the emptiness he had felt began to overtake him before he cast them aside as he thrust himself up from the floor. The heat of passion within him quickly turned to growing anger as he followed her out the doorway, throwing himself across the threshold and down the front stairs in a desperate attempt to stop her from escaping him.

* * *

Maggie came to a halt almost as soon as she crossed the threshold of the front door, gazing at her yard she knew there was no place to escape to. She frantically ran through options deciding on something she had done as a child when playing with her friends. She side stepped to the left of the door, pressing her body as close to the building as she could. The feel of the plastic siding cut through her shirt, its coolness helping her focus. The chances of her being successful in this attempt to escape were very slim, but better than her chances of being able to outrun Chris. She had a brief flash of the trophy he had displayed in his bookshelf, boasting a silver medal in sprinting as a senior in high school. While he was certainly not a teenager any longer, she had no doubts that his sprinting abilities still beat her running abilities. She held her breath and offered up another prayer for help, silent as her pursuer burst out of the house, oblivious to her presence as he headed toward the street.

Not wasting a second of her luck, Maggie twirled her body across the doorjamb and thrust the door closed as quickly as she could, the sound of it slamming causing Chris to stop and turn back towards her as she did. She snapped the latch of the deadbolt across, sealing the door from his re-entry and raced to the bathroom in the middle of the hallway. The lightweight door slammed shut behind her as well, the faint sound of the lock clicking and the sliding of the bolt at the top barely registering in her mind as she followed Gibbs' directions. Still panicked, but feeling a bit of relief at her good fortune, she grabbed the nearest item she could think of as a weapon and tucked herself as far into the tiny linen closet that was located in the corner. Gibbs was coming she reminded herself, this would be over soon. She closed her eyes as the furious voice of Chris came through her front door, echoing through the hallway and losing none of its poisonous venom in the voyage.

* * *

Bursting through the doorway, Chris inhaled deeply, his eyes darting about as he searched for where Maggie had run towards. The skies were darkening ever so slightly as the beginnings of sunset approached. He took a step forward towards the street, choosing the direction without any certainty that he would locate her. She couldn't leave him. They were meant for each other. They were complements, yin and yang; he could allow nothing to keep them from fulfilling their predestined pairing.

"Maggie!" he called out to the street, preparing to call again as the sound of the front door of the house slamming closed reached his ears. With a roar, he turned back towards the house again, placing his hand on the doorknob just as the heavy sound of the dead bolt falling into place reached his consciousness.

"MAGGIE!" he screamed again, his rage consuming him, giving him the strength of many men. He kicked out against the door repeatedly, smiling as the doorjamb shifted, loosening its hold on the security measure. Two more kicks thrust the lower hinges out of their holding and snapped the pine board holding the deadbolt mechanism in the door frame.

Pleased with his success at breaching the barrier between him and his love, Chris thrust himself into the house once again and stormed down the hallway once again. His eyes searched the rooms as he moved past them, attentive for any sign that his love was there waiting for him.

"Maggie!" he shouted again, some of the angry tone dissipating from his voice.

He reached the end of the hall and turned around, frustration building inside him until he placed his hand on the doorknob to the bathroom, intent on turning it so he could inspect the room as well.

The stiff resistance caused a half smile to reach his features, he had found her, he knew it.

"Maggie," he called, softer this time. He rattled the doorknob again as he heard a tiny whimper escape from the room. "Let me in Maggie." His voice was dangerously controlled and calm, a stark difference from his earlier state.

Silence greeted him for a moment, then Maggie's muffled voice broke through, shouting her reply.

"GO AWAY!" she shrieked, "I hate you! I never want to see you again. The police are on their way!"

A furious sneer formed on Chris' face as his anger boiled over again and he began pounding on the thin door to the bathroom. The flimsy barrier stood no chance. Pieces splintered off and he quickly switched to kicking the door as his hands became raw. After just a few blows there was an opening large enough for him to reach in and unlock the flimsy locks that amazingly still held the door shut.

He forced his way into the room and paused as an empty room greeted him.

"Maggie," he said again, "Come out now, its better that way."

He spied the small door that masked the linen closet and crossed to stand before it, savoring the raspy breathing he could hear behind it as he grasped the handle and flung the door open, loosening it from its hinges as well.

"It's time for us to go Maggie," he snarled, grasping her arm fiercely and yanking her from the room. He walked rapidly toward her bedroom, causing her to stumble and have to speed up her pace in order to avoid having her arm twisted wildly out of place. They crossed to the far wall of the bedroom where he flung open a sliding glass door that led to her back porch. Continuing to drag her along with him, they made their way through the light forestry between the houses towards his car, conveniently parked out of view of her home.

As they neared the end of the trees, Maggie spied a woman walking away from them, her dog eagerly straining at the leash as its owner readjusted earphones.

Maggie opened her mouth to scream for help, no longer paralyzed from fear at the turn of events. As the sound barely escaped her lips, she felt a sharp blow to her jaw. The world darkened instantly, flashes of light sparkling as words were uttered harshly into her ear.

"Now, now Maggie," Chris hissed, "you're mine now. Don't go spoiling the fun we're going to have."

A brief flash of panic stirred inside Maggie and she tried to pull her arm back away from his grasp, only to feel the world completely disappear around her as another blow crossed her jaw. Unconscious, she never felt herself being swung up into Chris' arms, placed in the passenger seat of his car and carefully buckled in. She never saw the path he took as he wove his way through the suburbs of Washington D.C. She didn't remember a thing until she opened her eyes, hours later, in a dimly lit, one room cabin several miles outside of the city.


	5. Chapter 5

Pursuit – Chapter 5

*************************************************************************************Abby Sciuto's entire body bobbed excitedly to the beat of the incredibly loud rock music playing in the lab. The lyrics were virtually indistinguishable from the sound of the band, except to the avid fans who soaked up the style as if it were water. The volume didn't seem to affect her at all, though the rest of the team was not as lucky. She was furiously typing on the keyboard in front of her, images of prison records, driver's licenses, and parole records flashed in front of her. The speed at which she seemed to process the information was astounding to even her co-workers, many of whom had to close their eyes to avoid a carsick-like feeling from growing as they watched her research their various cases.

Crossing into the outer area of the lab, Abby's office being the sacred inner sanctum of her domain, Tony winced and turned his head in towards his shoulder. The attempt at drowning out the sound failed, and he quickly put the box of evidence, neatly bagged and labeled, onto the stainless steel table that graced the center of the room. Freed of the encumbering item, he clasped both hands over his ears and attempted to get the forensic scientist's attention.

"Abby!," he shouted, pursing his lips as there was no response from the slender, gothic woman.

"ABBY!" he tried again, leaning closer towards her, unwilling to remove his hands from his ears just yet. The thumping of the music around him was just barely reaching a tolerable level now that he had been in the lab for a few moments and had begun to adjust.

"**ABB**…" he was cut off by McGee. The younger agent entered the lab, digital camera in one hand. He was somewhat more used to the music (and it's volume) and quickly placed the contents of his other hand onto the counter by Abby's hands.

"McGEE!" Abby's excited cry was barely able to cut through the sound of the music. "Why are…" she stopped short as she noticed DiNozzo with his ears firmly covered. With a fleeting sheepish grin, she flicked the switch of the CD player to "off" and turned back to face both agents.

"Why are you here? I thought this was your weekend off. That's what Gibbs said on his way home yesterday; you guys were finally going to have the first weekend off in six weeks. Did something happen to Gibbs? Where's Ziva? Is she okay?" The torrent of questions flew from her lips as breakneck speed.

Tony cautiously removed his hands from his ears, the ringing having faded enough that he risked the relative silence of the lab.

"It's okay Abby," he commented, straightening invisible wrinkles in his shirt as he did.

"Gibbs responded to a neighbor in distress this morning," Tim picked up, glancing over at Tony briefly before facing Abby once again. "Tony and I were here finishing up the reports for our last case when the switchboard sent a call in from Metro P.D."

"The on-call team was already out at an accident scene, so Vance had us call Gibbs and Ziva back in to work this case." Tony finished the summary. "Turns out that the case was the same incident Gibbs had responded to this morning."

Tim moved to the evidence box and pulled out several envelopes full of pictures he had taken from Chris Ellis' "trophy" wall. He handed them to Abby and moved towards the computer as he continued speaking.

"PFC Chris Ellis, formerly of the Marine Corps; released from prison roughly six months ago. He's still on probation though…Got let out early for good behavior."

"What'd he do McGee?" Abby questioned as she began typing his information into her myriad of databases, flicking through screen after screen rapidly. She never turned her eyes from the screen as she talked, focused on the immediate task, literally, at hand.

"He was charged with stalking, assault and attempted kidnapping several months after his girlfriend, Marguerite Harris, broke off their relationship. He nearly beat the male co-worker she was walking to her car with into a coma and tried to drag her into his car as he did. P.D. got their just in time and got him in jail. Judge gave him eighteen months with parole." Tim rattled off the information flawlessly, reciting the data he and the other members of the team had dug up just a few hours earlier.

Abby listened intently to his words as she continued typing. As McGee reached the part of the story where Private First Class Ellis' reason for arrest was relayed, her hands froze over the keyboard – mid stroke- and she pivoted away from the desk to face McGee.

"Eighteen months!" she sputtered, anger and indignation rising in her eyes. "He could have killed that man McGee, how could the Judge only give him eighteen months!?"

"Apparently the Defense Attorney managed to suppress the record of Ellis' statements as he was being taken into custody. Seems, in the heat of the moment, he didn't have his rights read to him until after the officer had checked on the safety of the victim. Ellis was shouting in the car that he would kill anyone who tried to take his Maggie away from him."

At this point Tony interjected."With no other way for the District Attorney to prove intent to commit murder, Ellis got off on the lesser charges."

He shrugged momentarily, continuing on an afterthought.

"Can't say I would blame the P.D. on this one, the Officer was riding solo. He contained the threat and then provided emergency care until the nearest unit could arrive. It only took a minute or two, and he went right back to finish arresting the sleaze ball. In the heat of the moment, when you're on your own… it's a judgment call. Unfortunately his let this guy back onto the streets so he could find her all over again."

"What do you guys need from me?" Abby asked, earnestly.

Tapping the evidence bag containing the photos, Tim replied, "We need a timeline of these photos, earliest to most recent. Any locations you can identify in them would be helpful too."

With a brisk nod and a grin, Abby spun back towards the computers. Grabbing the bag of photos she carried them to her scanner to begin uploading them into her baby's memory so she could compare them to the multitude of geographic references she had access to. Arranging them in chronological order would be the easy part, she thought to herself, there were many more variables involved in determining a location from a random photograph. She would do it though, her babies hadn't failed them yet, and none of them planned to let it happen today. None of them noticed as the other two NCIS agents exited the lab.

* * *

"I am amazed," Ziva David commented as she carefully photographed the splintered bathroom door and the other damages in the room, "at the length of time it took for Private Ellis to locate Ms. Harris."

Gibbs glanced at her briefly before returning his focus on the doorknob to the small linen closet before him. The fixture was covered with a faint dusting of black powder. He carefully slid a gloved finger over the specialized tape used for fingerprint collection. Withdrawing the tape carefully, he smoothed it out carefully across the attached cardboard strip. He labeled it and stowed it securely in the evidence kit beside him.

"She did a pretty good job hiding her tracks," he replied. "Her biggest mistake was probably staying here in the city."

The two investigators looked at each other briefly, somber expressions nearly identical.

"This is her home Gibbs," Ziva said, her tone firm and yet laced with a deeper passion, a compassion that didn't usually come out during the course of investigations. "It is better to face adversity with those you know rather than be challenged alone on foreign ground."

Pursing his lips as he pondered her statement, Gibbs cocked his head slightly to the side before reaching to close up the evidence collection kit.

"I've got the prints here. I'm going to head to the bedroom and check out the porch door."

Gibbs knew that regardless of all the incriminating, yet circumstantial, evidence NCIS already had to use against Chris Ellis that they would need to find conclusive proof that not only did he enter Maggie's house forcibly, but that he was the only one that could have removed her from the property. He was bound and determined to ensure that this bastard never saw the light of day again. The crimes he had committed that landed him in prison were heinous enough; to have been given the opportunity to perpetrate greater evil… that was criminal.

* * *

Ziva sighed as she continued to document the destruction around her. While her work with the Mossad had often included long term observation and even engagement of a target, in her case usually followed by a termination of the subject; she failed to understand the kind of delusional thoughts that caused men like Chris Ellis to commit his crimes. In the literal sense of the word, she had stalked, yes. Killed her target, yes. Evaded or side-stepped normal legal avenues. She had engaged in all of those behaviors in a clearly defined plan; the purpose of her actions (generally) being to achieve the greater good.

Chris Ellis had done none of his crimes in that vein. His actions had been self serving, ignorant, greedy and completely insane. He deserved his sentence to prison. In her opinion, he should spend the rest of his life locked away from society. She would prefer to just shoot the man, however, in her current line of employment it would have been a poorly advised action.

Exiting the bathroom, she backtracked down the hallway to the living room to obtain additional photographs of the destruction he had caused. Every piece of evidence would be necessary in order to place this man in prison permanently and she had every intention of ensuring that the prosecution had more than they could possibly need.

Faintly, she heard the familiar ring of Gibbs' cell phone from the back of the house. Pausing her work briefly, she focused her attention on hearing as much of the transaction as possible. Hearing his voice take on a tense tone beyond his normal urgency, she began to make her way back towards the bedroom where she knew he was still processing.

"Get it down to Abby NOW DiNozzo, "Gibbs voice rose to a low shout as Ziva rounded the doorway and entered the bedroom. "Get Metro involved in searching for his car, his best friend, his grandmother for all I care. I want him found yesterday. We're on our way back in."

Ziva tilted her head quizzically, lips pursed into a thin line, asking for the update without words.

"A note just got left at the main gate to the Navy Yard."

"And," Ziva prodded for more details as to the contents.

"And it said we have 48 hours to find her alive,"

"Why was it left at the Naval Yard and not at the Metro Police Station?" Ziva questioned the inconsistency in the action.

"Because it was addressed to Agent Gibbs at NCIS." Gibbs growled out the final details as he swiftly moved out of the home, gathering the evidence kit as he did. Together the two agents crossed the road, Gibbs talking to MPD as they did.

"Metro police are finished at Ellis' house, they're on their way here to secure the scene," he said to Ziva as he opened the garage door.

The two of them entered his recent acquisition from his Father and careened out of the driveway at breakneck speed. The sun was glimmering just above the horizon, hanging on for a few moments of daylight as they crossed into the Navy Yard.


End file.
